


To Get It Right

by CatelynTsukino



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence - Battle of Winterfell | Final Battle Against the White Walkers, Character Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, POV Jaime Lannister, The Long Night, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27170077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatelynTsukino/pseuds/CatelynTsukino
Summary: It's over; the Night King has won. The sun never rose again, and the world has been destroyed by the army of the dead.Only six people stand now, and there is only one solution: to go back in time and fix all mistakes.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jaime Lannister & Arya Stark, Jaime Lannister & Daenerys Targaryen, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Theon Greyjoy & Jaime Lannister, Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Comments: 27
Kudos: 257





	To Get It Right

**Author's Note:**

> Heeey, so this is one of the things I've been doing instead of updating my crossover fanfic hahaha  
> I read way too many time-travel fanfic and decided to contribute for this particular tag xD  
> This story has elements from the books and the show, as well as my own takes on events. Feel free to point out if anything is confusing. I didn't want to spend too many words detailing events that happened off page, so many things are summarized. It should be enough to understand.

There are no waves—there hasn't been any since the moon disappeared along with the sun—but the sea is still beautiful to see. Of course, it would be _more_ beautiful if there was moonlight above their heads, but he'll take what he can get.

Footsteps can be heard. He doesn't move, just glances aside to see Arya Stark sitting between him and Theon Greyjoy. He knows Daenerys Targaryen is on his other side—and isn't it odd, that she is willingly sitting with the man who killed her father? That they are _friends_?

Then again, there is no room for enmity anymore, not when they are all that's left to the world. Apocalypse is an _excellent_ way to turn enemies to allies to friends. If only the price wasn't so high.

Back to Arya. There are tears rolling down her cheeks. "I take the goodbye went well", Theon says.

"It did", she answers. "I still can't believe we're going to a world where Bran doesn't exist anymore, but… well, he and Melisandre did make it very clear that the magic requires them sacrificing their existence, and they are okay with that, so I guess I should be, too."

Ever since they fled in that tiny ship—ever since Bran Stark and the Red Priestess said there was a way to reverse the Long Night, but they needed to find a safe place to hide for several days to prepare for the ritual—the two magical humans have insisted that, to send the four of them back in time, they'd have to sacrifice their lives in the _new_ timeline, meaning they'd never even been born.

"Did you ask him _when_ we are going back to, exactly?", Daenerys asks, and he is grateful for the slight subject change.

Arya nods. "Six years ago. A few days after Jaime and I arrived in King's Landing. You were already married to your first husband, but not pregnant yet, and Theon was still in Winterfell."

"Well", he says, shifting his position on the sand, "we need to make a plan of action. I doubt anyone will actually _hear_ us if we tell the truth."

Arya snorts. "Hells, no. If we're lucky they'll throw us in the dungeons and say we've gone mad."

"We need to set our goals first", Daenerys says. "We need to unite Westeros and Essos under the same cause, which is the fight against the Others. Correct?" The three all nod. "So, Essos is not an unified realm like Westeros, meaning we have to convince each city. It won't be _that_ hard for me, after I hatch the dragon eggs. Everyone was willing to listen to me when they were at my side. The bigger problem is Westeros. You got into war at the end of that year, right?"

They nod again. "We need to prevent it", Jaime says, stating the obvious, "which means ensuring Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark don't die. As shitty as Robert was as a king, his survival will help us hold the realm together. Now that there will be no Bran for me to push out of the window, the Starks and the Tullys have nothing of substance against the Lannisters, or the Crown."

"Maybe, but Jon Arryn will be already dead, and aunt Lysa will already have tried to blame your family", Arya intervenes. "Father will still try to find out why, and will stumble upon the parentage of your children."

"Leave that to me. I have something in mind." It _might_ lead to his own death, but if it means everyone else will live, it won't be so bad.

"Guys", Theon calls. "You're forgetting something important. _How_ are we to convince everyone of the threat?"

 _Fuck_ , he's right. Fortunately, Arya has an answer—though not immediately. "Jon", she begins after a short but awkward silence, "said that he fought a wight shortly after he took the black. And didn't Father execute a deserter who claimed to have seen the dead? _Before_ the king came to Winterfell?"

"That's true", Greyjoy agrees. "I was there, I remember now. Hm. I can take the black. If I manage to catch a wight, I can send it to Winterfell, or… something of the sort. I'll see that after I get there. Jon will be there, which might make things easier."

"Sounds good", he says. "So, we get proof of the Others' existence, prevent the War of the Five Kings, try our hardest to bring as many people as possible to our cause, all without giving away that we are from a future where everyone but us has died."

"I already got tired just hearing you describe it", Arya huffs, and they all chuckle.

Silence falls, but this time is not awkward. It is, in fact, the most peaceful since the Long Night began, roughly two years ago. They clearly managed to escape without being caught by the wight dragons, and Theon's suggestion to sail west instead of east or south really paid off.

"Which island do you think we are on?", Daenerys asks, sometime later, after they all lie down on the sand. "Aegon, Rhaenys or Visenya?"

"I'm not sure Alys Westhill bothered to tell the difference between those islands", Theon replies.

"Can this one be Visenya?", Arya asks, amused hope in her voice. "She's my favorite of the conquerors."

They laugh quietly, and settle on Visenya Island. After another prolonged silence, it's Jaime's turn to speak up. "Gods, I can't believe I'll have two hands again."

Theon comments, in awe, that he'll get his side teeth and cock back—it's unclear which body part he's more glad to regain—and Daenerys mentions she'll be fertile once more. Arya just says she'll have significantly less scars and bags under her eyes, something they all agree on. "Speaking of which", Theon says, "we should get some sleep while we can. We are to go back in time tomorrow, so…"

Those last days have been of good sleep, despite the nightmares. At least it is _some_ sleep, which none of them could really afford while fighting creatures who don't need it. A third of their losses happened while they were asleep—like Gendry—and many others fell victims of the undead because they couldn't keep their eyes open—like Brienne.

Their time in the isle was good for resting, but also for properly grieving. All four of them had gotten married at one point or another: Jaime to Brienne, Daenerys to Jon, Arya to Gendry and Theon to Sansa. One by one, all lost their spouses in the fight. Sansa died rather early, and Arya was forced to slay her wight sister. Jon fell along with his dragon, and while Viserion was brought back, he fortunately was not. The same cannot be said for Brienne and Gendry… he doesn't want to think about them.

 _They'll all be alive when we go back_ , he reminds himself, a little before he falls into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

They gather in a small hut, likely built by Alys Westhill and her companions. Bran and Melisandre spent the whole time inside, preparing in whatever way they had to. Now it is time.

"Do we need to give our blood, or something?", he asks.

Melisandre actually chuckles. "I think Bran and I make enough of a sacrifice. No, we'll only need you to hold hands as we perform the final stages of the ritual."

"Well, no, that's a deal breaker", Theon protests, but he's grinning. The four of them form a circle. Arya holds his hand, Daenerys holds his stump, and Greyjoy is right in front of him.

"Are you all ready to lose your crowns?", Bran asks, in the most teasing voice he's ever heard from him.

He and Arya snort, while the other two actually laugh. If there is one thing he will do his best to prevent, aside from the Long Night itself, is his stupid crowning. _I'll place_ Bronn _on that damned throne before I let anyone put_ me _back on it._

He closes his eyes, barely listening to the Red Priestess' voice. His heart races at the prospect of going back in time, but it's too late to feel nervous. _This is our chance. We can't waste it._

He briefly opens his eyes, just as a bright light engulfs them, and unceremoniously faints.

* * *

There is a ceiling above his head and a mattress under his back. He's in his old room in the Red Keep. _Gods, it worked._ Jaime officially worships R'hllor and the Old Northern Gods now. At least _they_ did _something_ to prevent the end of the world.

It's morning. There is sunlight. He doesn't need candles or torches to see everything around him. It's actually _difficult_ to adjust to so much _light_ , but he'll gladly accept any headache that may come at the end of the day.

He goes to put his armor on. He has no idea which day it is exactly, so it might even be his free day, but he can always feign disorientation. He hopes it's not, though; reprieve days were usually Cersei Days, and he has _no_ interest in dealing with her on his first day back from the future.

Just the mere thought of his sister leaves his throat constricted. The memory of her choking under his remaining hand never left him, even after over three years. Brienne used to comfort him, but she died after a year and a half of fighting, and he's been hurting non stop ever since.

 _Brienne. I wonder how she's doing right now_. She is either seventeen or eighteen, if he remembers her birth year right. Still on Tarth, likely enamored by Renly. _It's better this way. I don't think I can see her so soon without ruining the plan._

He glances at the table and catches sight of a note. He knows what it is before he (re) reads it. It's from Cersei, warning him of Eddard's investigation and asking him to stop him. He grins. _How convenient._ He takes his armor off—he remembers he wasn't wearing it on the first time—and readies himself. He probably won't see Arya until late night, but he won't need her for _this_.

He _is_ going to meet Lord Stark today, and he _is_ going to stop his investigation—or try to, at least. Just not in the way his sister expects.

* * *

He finds Eddard at the same street he did on the first time around. Littlefinger is with him, and Jaime wants to slap himself. _We forgot that fucker._ Baelish was executed by Arya after Sansa sentenced him for his many crimes. He wished he had seen it, but hearing the story was satisfying all the same. Varys was still alive when the first battle against the Others broke out, but he barely lasted. _We might have to get rid of them if we want this to work._ Both men were _interested_ in bringing the realm down with war, and their schemings might ruin everything if they are not careful.

Oh well. Arya took care of Baelish once, she can do it again. His face might even be useful if they manage to hide his death. But not now. Now he has to find a way to separate the two and have a _private_ conversation with Stark.

He blinks as an idea occurs to him. It's ridiculous, but he has to try. "Lord Baelish", he shouts, very maturely. "I've been looking for you all morning!"

Littlefinger turns and grins at him, the shit grin he shows to make himself look clever. "Ser Jaime, I apologize for the trouble", he says politely. "I was just taking a walk with the Lord Hand. How can I be of service?"

"The King wishes to speak to the Master of Coin", he replies smoothly. "If Stark is so intent on getting to know the city, we can switch places."

Eddard frowns; of course, he's not going to trust Jaime so easily. "It's no trouble. We can do this some other day."

"I insist", Jaime replies. "Go, Baelish, I'll stay with Lord Stark."

Littlefinger raises an eyebrow, but leaves. Jaime pats Eddard on the shoulder. "C'mon, Stark, let's take a walk."

The man is still frowning, and it reminds him of Jon's frown when he was confused. _No wonder everyone believed he was his bastard son._ "You don't fool me, Kingslayer. What do you want?"

He's tempted to jape, but he reminds himself this is all for the _greater good_ , and sighs. "We need a safer place for this conversation. I don't trust Baelish to have truly left us alone, and Varys' little birds are everywhere. Would you follow me?"

"Not unless you tell me at least the premise of whatever you want to talk about."

"I know what you're doing. And you are _right_. I'll tell you everything, just wait for us to get out of here." Eddard's eyes widen, and it seems he said the right thing, because he follows Jaime silently until they get to a calmer area of the docks. The waves are low, but they are _there_ , and—Jaime _refuses_ to get emotional over the sea.

"Whatever you have to say", Stark says after they stop walking, "say it now. What am I right about, exactly?"

He runs his hand—his _sword_ hand—over his hair—his soft, long hair. "You suspect Cersei's children are not Robert's. And you're right. They are _mine_. All three of them."

Eddard takes a step behind. _Please don't leave now._ "Why are you telling me this?"

He bites his lip. He can't say he's trying to prevent a war, since _this_ Jaime has no way of knowing Stark's actions would lead to one. "Because", he replies, slowly, "this is what eventually got Jon Arryn killed. Not by my sister's doing, but… indirectly. It's not the point right now. Point is, Cersei will do _anything_ to keep this secret. She was the one to warn me of your investigation, so you are _already_ in danger. There is no need to keep going now. You know the truth. But tell me, Stark, what do you plan to _do_ with the truth?"

He knows the answer, of course; he remembers what he did. "Robert needs to know. The children are bastards, and not even his. They can't inherit the throne."

"So what, you tell him… and stand by as he executes all of us? Children included?"

"Of course not—"

"Then you don't know your friend as well you think, Stark. Or did you forget the utter _delight_ on his face when Father presented him the bodies of Rhaegar's little kids? How he called them _dragonspawn_?"

Eddard's face pales at that. Clearly, he forgot. After a while, he calms down. "I suppose you have a plan, then, if you are here."

"I do. I'm not the brightest Lannister, those are my siblings, but I _can_ think once in a while." He sighs. "You should know… Cersei and I are no longer in a relationship. Of any kind whatsoever. She'll deny it, if you ever confront her; she's not used to losing. Anyway… I won't apologize for my children. Joffrey's an ass, and I have no wish to see him on the throne, but Myrcella and Tommen are the sweetest kids and don't deserve whatever fate awaits for them if Robert finds out." _They don't deserve to die as horribly as they did._ He never really missed Joffrey, but his other children's deaths shattered his heart. "I thought long about a solution that wouldn't end badly for them, and… well, one option is to convince Robert to legitimize his bastards. Some are older than Joffrey, and therefore could precede him when the king dies. Another option is… I don't know if you are aware, but Lord Renly has plans to have Robert's marriage to Cersei set aside and wed him to Margaery Tyrell. _I_ am not supposed to know that—I found out by accident, shortly before we went to Winterfell—but I'm sure he'd trust _you_ with that information."

He shuts up before he starts rambling. He's already lying about the way he discovered Renly's plans— _Brienne_ told him, once, what she heard from the deceased queen herself—and while this is a lie Eddard can't verify, he's afraid of spilling another he _can_ if he talks long enough.

It takes a while for Stark to answer, and it's with another question. "What do you gain with this? Is it revenge?"

 _No, you idiot. I'm trying to save the world. Would you help me for once in your life?_ Time had made him forget how infuriating Eddard Stark could be. "No. Regardless of what you think of me, Stark, I'm not a petty man who seeks revenge for his own stupid mistakes. I dug my own grave sleeping with Cersei, I know that now." _Ironic, given I was one of the last few standing in the end._ "But I'd rather not dig three little graves along, and anyone who has spent enough time with Joffrey knows he's unfit for ruling, and it'll be worse if Cersei is Queen Mother alongside him."

He wonders, for a tense moment, if he's giving too much away. If Joffrey's monstrous tendencies _were_ already noticeable at the time they are now. Stark's sigh leaves him a bit relieved. "Alright. I'll see if Renly is really planning something with the Tyrells. If we manage to set the wedding aside, it will be easy to bastardize the children without saying they are not really Robert's."

"That's all I ask", he replies truthfully. "If you need a hand, you know where to find me." He almost laughs at his own joke until he remembers it _isn't_ one here, now that he has both hands again.

"I hope I'm not misplacing my trust in you, Kingslayer", he retorts.

"I'll take the blame for whatever trouble you face", he replies evenly. "It may not be worth much for you, but you have my word."

* * *

When Arya shows up in his room, she's not _Arya_ , but a man he can't recognize. "You couldn't spend a day without killing anyone?", he asks, raising his eyebrows at her.

She takes the face off, revealing her eleven-year-old self. Gods, she's too young for this. "This one's my fight instructor. Syrio Forel. Claimed to have been the First Sword of Braavos, but after I trained with the Faceless Men I suspected he was one. I had training with him today and confronted him, since I can't really pretend _not_ to know how to fight anymore, and he challenged me for a duel."

He goes to wash his face off. "To the death?"

"Pretty much", she shrugs. "Saw you with Father. Did it go well?"

"I… think so?" He finishes cleaning his face and tells her a summary of the conversation. "It will take a while, and there are always risks, but I think I can get your father to trust me _before_ everything is fucked up."

She nods. "Have you spoken to Cersei yet? You can't really claim to have broken things off with her if you don't."

He groans. "Not yet. I'll do it tonight, as much as I dread it."

"Afraid you'll choke her again?"

He glares at her, and she laughs before leaving the room.

* * *

_Obviously_ , his conversation with Cersei goes badly. At least both manage not to shout at each other. It says something that not once she questioned it when he claimed to have been thinking about this for a long time, though. He expected her to be way more surprised, but she's just angry. "No one leaves me", she claims. She's said it once, _back then_.

"I'll gladly be the first", he spats, and leaves. It's better than his answer _back then_.

He goes to take refuge in the godswood. It's a poor reminder of the one in Winterfell— _of the one he wedded Brienne in_ —but it's secluded enough for him to clear his thoughts.

Except Arya is there. Of damn course she is. "What are you doing here?", she asks.

"I could ask you the same thing", he replies without hesitation, but then sighs. "I managed to talk to Cersei and leave her alive, if you're wondering."

"Did you really have to?", she frowns, and he knows she's genuinely curious. Still, he waits for her to elaborate, "I know we are supposed to keep as many people alive as possible, but I don't see how keeping _her_ alive will help us."

He slowly sits down, leaning on a tree. "First of all, I'm _not_ looking forward to killing her a second time, no matter how much you joke about it. She's still my sister, and I still remember loving her. Secondly… she _can_ stay alive, as long as she's not in any position of power to screw things up, and keeping our children alive will be easier if she is too."

"And how do you plan on preventing her rise to power? Legitimizing Gendry?" Her tone is incredulous, not without reason—the poor boy freaked out when Daenerys promised him Storm's End, back when there was something to rule over and Jaime promised he'd personally crown her after the battle. _Good times_ , he thinks, _when we were naïve enough to believe we'd win._

"It's an option", he admits, "but your father is to talk to Renly about his plan to set Cersei aside in favor of Margaery Tyrell. That way, my children would be bastardized and sent to the Rock. She'll hate it, but they'll live, and we can breathe a little easier, especially after we get news from Theon and Daenerys."

"I hope they are having it easier than us", she says, sighing. "We got the whole political drama to deal with when neither of us were ever interested in it."

He hums in agreement. All his knowledge in politics comes from watching people in power: Aerys, Rhaegar, his father, his sister, Robert, his sons, the Starks, Daenerys. He knows how to lead, sure, but actual _ruling_ is another matter altogether.

 _After we truly defeat the Others, we should probably find a way to crown Daenerys. She'll make a better ruler than Robert; of that, I'm sure._ The Targaryen girl has none of her father's madness, but all of her brother's qualities. And she always picked her advisors well. _Except when she tried to insert me in her Small Council when I offered her the crown._

He was King of Westeros for a _very short_ while, and all he did was lead an army to the North, to fight the Others, but he hated every moment of it. For starters, he got that bloody thing after _killing his sister_ , which should have been seen as the bad omen it was. No one bothered to imprison him, not when the threat of wildfire was clear as day, but he still believes his crowning was, in fact, his punishment.

At least he technically only ruled over five kingdoms. Nobody in the North bowed to the Iron Throne anymore—they had named Sansa their Queen after Bran refused the crown—and the Iron Islands were as good as independent after Asha crowned herself. He was more than happy to keep it that way, and Daenerys even said she'd let the North rule themselves when she got the throne, but… well. There was nothing to rule over, in the end. Arya and Theon technically inherited the crowns after their sisters perished, but there was no point in it anymore by then.

"I saw Gendry today", Arya says quietly, shaking him out of his thoughts. "From a distance, of course."

"Did you cry?", he asks teasingly, even though this is no teasing matter for either of them.

She grins, however, so she's not offended. "Syrio never cried, so no. I shed a few tears before you arrived, though, I admit." She sits at his side, closing her eyes. "He won't look at me twice like this."

He reaches for her shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll succeed this time, and you'll have time to win his heart again."

She turns her head to him and smiles a bit. "I hope so. And for you too. All of us, actually. That's all I ask, since we came back. Some happiness for once."

He feels his heart tighten. The war hardened them, changed them, but in the end they were just people who longed for some joy. And love. "I want that, too."

* * *

Arya kills Littlefinger, but they decide to spare Varys when they remember he is working for Aegon, the third dragon head. Poor boy had died much like Jon, falling off his dragon, but fate wasn't kind enough to _leave him dead_ , and it fell on Daenerys to kill her nephew for good—right after facing wight Jorah Mormont.

Lord Stark approaches him to inform him that Renly is planning to reveal Cersei's infidelity to Robert, but he managed to convince the king's brother to not mention him. "I told him you were the one to confirm the affair between you, and that you are no longer associated with her. But she has slept with others as well."

He sounds almost sad to deliver the news, but Jaime stays neutral. He has found out long ago, from Tyrion; it doesn't hurt him anymore, not after he's known worse pains. "I'm grateful", he says instead, and it's the truth. He needs more time alive and in King's Landing to make sure the realm can be held together while Theon and Daenerys do their part. "Is there anything you need from me?"

"You might have to testify", he replies. "Not to admit you were one of her lovers, no. Even if she tries to claim you were, it will seem like an attempt at revenge. If you do testify, it will be to say you've guarded her chambers while she was with other men."

He nods. "Give me names, and I'll say them." He knows of the Kettleback brothers, and he thinks his cousin Lancel was involved once too, but he has stopped thinking about it so long ago he's not sure if he's recalling correctly. "Thank you for saving me, Stark. I know you don't trust me—"

"I don't", he interrupts him. "But you've shown to be trustworthy in _this_ regard so far, and we have the same goals on this matter. Also, I've seen you with my daughter. Arya seems to like you, and she doesn't like many people, so you must be doing something right."

He tries not to let his jaw clench. Okay, he has taken to training with Arya, because he wants to be able to wield two swords at once and Arya's style is _deadly_ , making it useful for improvement, but that's all it's supposed to be in other people's eyes. He hopes Eddard doesn't notice his daughter is actually _friends_ with the Kingslayer.

* * *

"I think Sansa is suspecting I'm possessed by some evil spirit", Arya tells him after they finish sparring. "I'm not exactly subtle when I bring Theon to the conversation."

"You were never subtle when it comes to our love lives", he retorts, grinning. "She might think _you_ are in love with Greyjoy, though."

"Ew", she replies, feigning to puke. Then she turns serious. "I saw you got a letter from the Wall."

He nods, turning serious as well. "He and Jon found a way to effectively hold a wight. They want to take one to Last Hearth and Winterfell. If it works, your father will probably receive a letter from your brother about it."

"Good. Now all we need is for Daenerys to hatch her dragon eggs."

"It's not just that", he reminds her. "She has to spread the message to every city in Essos. It won't be quick."

There is no reply to that, so they part ways.

* * *

Robb Stark's letter comes on the day of Cersei's trial. As expected, she tries to drag Jaime along after he testifies against her, but Robert laughs at the mere possibility of the twins fucking each other, and nobody gives her credit. Their marriage is set aside, the children are bastardized and taken to Casterly Rock. And _that's it_. No one is to die for his mistakes with Cersei, and their chances of staying in peace increase significantly.

He doesn't tell Cersei goodbye, or Joffrey. But he does visit Myrcella and Tommen. They share one last hug, and he promises he'll go to the Rock to see them—even though he likely won't be able to.

It's a huge relief, and he'd go drink in a tavern if it wasn't for the letter. Stark reads it aloud after the trial ends. "My son has received a visit from Jon Snow and Theon Greyjoy, both of who are of the Night's Watch. They brought him a… wight."

Of course, the southern lords never heard of a damn wight before, not even in legends—it's one of the many reasons they failed so spectacularly—so Stark has to explain it to his friend. He does his best to hide his amusement at the effort, and his irritation when Robert laughs and dismisses the threat. They argue until it comes to a point where Jaime can't keep his mouth shut anymore.

"Your Grace", he says, taking a step ahead and clearing his throat. "Robb Stark has nothing to gain from playing a childish prank on his father and the Crown. Also, the Night's Watch is disgraced enough _without_ resorting to spreading scary tales as reality. Which means, at least to me, that the three of them are telling the truth, however absurd it may sound."

Silence falls as everyone stares at him. Stark, especially, is looking at him as if he'd grown a second head. He turns his gaze to the king, who seems to be analyzing him. "If you are so inclined to believe this, Kingslayer, then you'll go with Ned to verify the story. _If_ this absurdity proves to be true, we'll discuss plans."

He almost says no. Having both him and Stark out of King's Landing is a huge risk. Littlefinger might be dead, but Varys may still want to cause instability to open room for Aegon to come and take over. If news of Daenerys arrives while they are away, Robert won't be calmed down without his friend nearby.

But this is _the_ best chance of uniting the realm. If the king, a southron pampered lord—gods, since _when_ he thinks like that, he _is_ southern, damn it—believes the Others are coming for everyone, the kingdoms will get prepared for winter and for battle, and will be too occupied to fight each other. And, when Daenerys arrives with the dragons, she won't be feared, but gladly welcomed.

With that in mind, he accepts the command and nods at Stark, taking his leave to pack his things. Hours later, he finds out Eddard is taking Sansa and Arya back to Winterfell too. There is no need for Sansa to stay now that she won't wed Joffrey, and Arya won't be left alone in King's Landing.

Later, the girl sneaks inside his room with beer. "It's better than the leftover wine we found in Riverrun's ruins", she claims.

"You're too small to drink, you know", he says, not bothering to claim she was too _young_ when both of them feel older than their years.

"I don't care, and neither should you." She hands him a cup and drinks from her own. "Threatened Varys with Syrio's face after you left. Told him I knew about Aegon and warned that Daenerys is our best chance."

He frowns and drinks. "I trust you said it in a way that won't make him chase the poor girl to kill her."

"He seemed to see reason behind my words, so…"

"Then we can only pray he'll be useful to us."

There is a short silence as they finish their beer. Then, Arya speaks up again. "Do you think Theon will be able to hold himself together when he sees Sansa again?"

He snorts. "Absolutely _not_. I bet he didn't when he saw _Robb_."

She laughs, he chuckles along, and they toast with their empty cups.

* * *

He should have known they'd been caught at some point of their journey to Winterfell. He just never expected it would be _Sansa_ to find out something was wrong with him and Arya—actually, just Arya. "Arya", she calls her sister, breathing heavily as if she'd just run from Sunspear to Oldtown, "why is _Baelish's face_ inside your breaches' pockets?"

She all but shouts, and both he and Eddard are present—Robert did not send them with any other soldier, still demeaning Robb Stark's message as a childish prank. Arya's face pales, and she looks right at him. _Fuck_.

"This is enough", Stark declares. "First, your fighting instructor suddenly resigns, and you begin to train with the Kingslayer of all people, and your skills improve all of a sudden—and so do his, for I've never seen him fight with both hands at once. Sansa keeps telling me you are acting strangely for days, and you disappear for hours. Meanwhile, Lannister, you suddenly can't stand the sight of your sister, shows interest in helping me bring her down, and vouch in favor of my son's claims. You two changed overnight, and I must know why if I'm to trust any of you."

He and Arya exchange glances again, and he sighs. _Here goes nothing._ "We should sit", he says. "It's a _very_ long story."

* * *

It's Arya who begins. "Father, could you please say the names of your sons?"

Stark frowns, but answers, "Robb, Jon and Rickon."

"And Brandon", Sansa adds quietly. "You know the story, Arya. Mother was so sure it was boy, even after the miscarriage, she insisted on naming him."

Arya glances at him. So that's what happened to Bran in this reality; he was _conceived_ , but not _born_. The girl takes a deep breath. "When we come from, Brandon Stark _was_ born."

" _When_ you come from?", Stark interrupts. "What are you talking about, Arya?"

Arya opens her mouth to reply, but he places a hand on her shoulder. "We come from the future", he says. "Six years from now. The Long Night prevailed, the Others wiped out the entirety of Westeros and Essos, and only six of us survived the destruction. Two performed a magical ritual to send the remaining four back in time to fix all mistakes that led to humanity's doom."

Silence falls as both Eddard and Sansa watch them with wide eyes and open mouths. _I've never been smooth_ , he reminds himself, _and Arya would probably have delivered the news even more poorly._

"Who are the other two?", Sansa asks, eventually. "And who were the two who sent you back?"

"We were sent back by Bran Stark", he replies, "who became the Three-Eyed Raven, and by Melisandre of Asshai, a red priestess of R'hllor. They sacrificed their existence in this new reality to send us back, which is why your mother's pregnancy ended in miscarriage. We came with Theon Greyjoy and Daenerys Targaryen."

The auburn-haired Stark glares at her sister at the mention of Theon, and Eddard clears his throat. "This is madman's tale. How do you expect me to believe you?"

Jaime raises an eyebrow to stop himself from grinning. He has thought about it many times since they came back. "Jon is not your son", he says bluntly. "He's your _nephew_. His real parents are Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen."

Sansa's head turns to her father so abruptly, for a moment he fears she'll break her own neck— _just like that wight broke hers_. "Is it true, Father?"

Stark's face blanches, and then he launches at Jaime, holding him by his throat. "How do you know that, _Kingslayer_? Who _told_ you?"

It's Arya who answers. "Jon himself told us. You never had the chance to tell him, but Bran—the Three-Eyed Raven—found out, and Samwell Tarly found papers in the Citadel that proved his parents got married in secret in the Isle of Faces. He's not a bastard, but an heir to the Iron Throne. Not that it mattered, in the long run. There was no throne to sit on, in the end."

Eddard's grip on his throat lessens as he turns to look at his daughter. Jaime glances at her too; at that moment, with memories of the Long Night at the forefront of her mind, Arya looks older than her seventeen years of life, and even older than her apparent eleven years.

Finally, he is set free, and takes a deep breath and coughs. "Both of you seem to speak the truth", Stark decides. "Or, at least, you truly believe the tales you tell. I ask you to tell them from the beginning. How did this Long Night come to be, and why did we fail to defeat the undead?"

He lets Arya start. "The Others caught us unprepared. Not only most of the realms were unaware of the threat, Westeros was destroyed by war. Daenerys Targaryen brought dragons back to life, but even them were not enough, and in the end they were turned against us as they died and brought back as wights. As for why this happened… Jaime, will you do the honors?"

He rolls his eyes, but speaks anyway. "Remember when I approached you to talk about Cersei and her children?" Stark nods, and he proceeds to tell about Robert's death, Eddard's execution and how the War of the Five Kings began. He does his best to summarize what happened. Arya snickers when he mentions Brienne, but it's fine because he nearly chokes a couple times—like when he tells the story of how and why he lost his sword hand to save her from rape.

When it's too much for him to continue, Arya interrupts to tell her story after escaping King's Landing. She is way better at hiding her emotions when she brings Gendry up, but falters when it's time to mention the Red Wedding. Sansa cries, and Eddard asks who became King in the North after Robb is gone. "Since I have an older son, I assume Bran was crowned."

Oh, fuck. They forgot about Bran's and Theon's stories. Jaime takes over again to tell them about Theon's betrayal, followed by torture under the Bolton's hands, and Bran's journey beyond the Wall and his encounter with Bloodraven. Sansa is _furious_ at Arya. "How can you say any nice word about Theon after everything he did?"

"Because he _paid_ for his actions", she replies easily. "Didn't you hear? Besides… it was _you_ who helped him redeem himself."

"What?"

"Well", Jaime says, "time to go back to King's Landing, huh? You were there last time we mentioned you." He takes a deep breath. "Shortly before Brienne and I reached King's Landing, Joffrey wedded Margaery Tyrell. However, he was poisoned and killed at the wedding. You were framed, but Baelish whisked you away to the Vale and hid you as his bastard daughter.

"I don't know all the details. You never liked talking about that particular period of your life, with good reason. What I know is that Baelish sold you to the Boltons, and you were forced to marry Ramsay. I'm sure you can guess how terrible things were. I'd rather not describe it aloud." Sansa gulps, but nods. He continues, "You found Theon, and you bonded over shared trauma. He regretted his actions and did everything in his power to save you. Eventually, you escaped Winterfell and ran to the Wall, where you found Jon. Stannis was also there, and demanded your loyalty in exchange for taking over Winterfell and delivering it back to the Starks. Meanwhile…"

He tells them that he sent Brienne to find Sansa after Joffrey's death, obviously unaware of her whereabouts. He tells about the siege of Riverrun and how he ended it without bloodshed to minimally honor his oath to Catelyn. He closes his hands in fists as he recalls Lady Stoneheart, and how he and Brienne parted ways again after he learned of Aegon's invasion of the stormlands and felt forced to go back to King's Landing to defend his king—his _son_ —while she went to Winterfell, hoping to find Sansa there.

"Brienne arrived just in time to join the battle to reclaim Winterfell. Afterwards, she found Stannis and executed him for his involvement in Renly's death. Sansa was crowned Queen in the North, and Brienne was welcomed in her Queensguard.

"Meanwhile… well, I need to go back a bit to explain this. While I was in Riverrun, Cersei was accused by the Faith of infidelity—the same accusations we threw a few days ago. So was Margaery, though I can't remember why. The High Septon scheduled a trial for both women, but only Margaery showed up. Cersei stayed in the Red Keep and kept Tommen there. And then the Sept exploded." He closed his eyes. "She used _wildfire_ to escape her trial, and destroyed a third of the city in the process. Tommen saw the whole thing, and he was so devastated by it, he _threw himself out of a window_. I arrived on the day of Cersei's coronation."

He goes on, telling them how they grew even more apart as he suspected she was behind the explosion. He tells about the battles against the Golden Company, which distracted them from Daenerys' arrival with her dragons in Dragonstone. How Aegon retreated after learning of his aunt's arrival, and how he showed up again with her.

"They weren't alone", he says. "Sansa and Jon came to represent the North, and Theon's sister came to represent the Iron Islands. Tyrion had run away to Essos to escape execution for Joffrey's murder—he was innocent, but Cersei wanted him dead anyway—and was back as Daenerys' Hand. Aegon had renounced rights, believing his aunt to be better-suited for ruling, and was in her Small Council. Jon brought a wight with him—that's how Theon knew he could capture a wight without killing them—and showed it to us. Cersei promised an army, but… But as soon as they left, she told me she had lied.

"I was damn furious. Couldn't she see the danger we were all in? But she kept talking about power and doing everything to keep hers, until she let it slip she was, in fact, behind the explosion. And… well. There is no nice way to say this. I killed her."

He gulps, and a couple tears fall. Arya squeezes his arm, and he continues. "Some people saw the whole thing, and spread that I rightfully executed her for murder and treason. Instead of being imprisoned, I was _fucking crowned_. I summoned armies from everywhere in the realm to march North to fight against the Others. Myrcella and Shireen Baratheon were already dead, by the way, which was why no one hesitated to crown _me_. " He doesn't tell how Myrcella was killed by Targaryen loyalists right before Tommen's suicide; he's not ready to share that information yet. He also doesn't tell how Stannis sacrificed his daughter to R'hllor. "Anyway, we marched North."

"Wait", Stark interrupts, "where was Arya all this time?"

Arya blinks. "Oh, I didn't tell the whole story, did I? Take a break, Jaime, now it's my turn." She goes to tell about her time in Braavos and her return to Winterfell. Bran was already back, but deeply changed as the Three-Eyed Raven, but the three Stark siblings (plus Jon, who still thought himself a Eddard's bastard at the time) plotted to have Baelish punished for his crimes—which included Jon Arryn and Lysa Tully's murders. "I was the one to execute him, after Sansa proclaimed the sentence."

This is the point where their stories come together, so they take turns talking about preparations for the Long Night. "I promised Daenerys she'd have the blasted throne as soon as we defeated the Others and headed back to King's Landing. At that point, Bran had already told everyone about Aerys' plans to burn the city—"

"Wait, what?"

He blinks. _Oops, I forgot he doesn't know about it._ It's Arya who tells the story. "Anyway", she tells as she finishes, not waiting for her father and sister's reactions, "everyone was aware of that by that point, so Daenerys pretty much forgave Jaime for her father's murder."

Sansa frowns. "So you _were_ all united against the Others. How did it go wrong?"

He shakes his head. "I said I _summoned_ armies from all kingdoms, not that they _answered_. Dorne and the Reach refused to answer to a Lannister, and most of the stormlands and riverlands had been wiped out. My army was mostly from the westerlands and crownlands, which was nowhere near enough. By the time the Houses who didn't answer the call became truly aware of the threat, it was too late."

Taking turns, he and Arya told them about how the Others defeated them repeatedly, advancing over Westeros. "It all got worse when the dragons fell", Arya states. "Daenerys was lucky enough to survive her fall pretty much unscathed, but her nephews perished, and the dragons were turned into wights. We were essentially _fucked_ after that. Many tried to flee to Essos—Daenerys managed to gather many Essosi armies, but not all—but the dragons wiped the whole realm quicker than they did to Westeros."

"We resorted to run and hide from that point on", Jaime adds. "It was nearly impossible to outrun the undead, because they don't have to stop for food and sleep, but sometimes we'd find shelter for a couple of days. One by one, we lost numbers until there were only six of us: Arya and me, Theon, Daenerys, Bran Stark and Stannis' red priestess Melisandre."

It's dark by now—they started their tale in the morning—so Arya is making a fire while she continues, "We ran south until we reached Starfall, where Theon found a small ship and suggested that we sailed west. Essos was no more, and the last we saw of the dragons were them heading to the Summer Isles and Sothoryos. Our only chance of going unnoticed was to go west."

"There is nothing west of Westeros", Stark interferes.

Jaime almost grins. "You don't remember your history lessons, Stark? You know nothing of Alys Westhill's expedition at the time of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne?" Eddard frowns and shakes his head. "She sailed west and found three islands. So did we."

Arya finishes telling them of Bran and Melisandre's magical ritual to send them back in time to prevent the Long Night. "We must gather _all possible_ _forces_ to the fight this time. This is the only way we can win. That's why Jaime came to tell you about his children with Cersei. That's why we got rid of Baelish—yes, that was me—and why Jaime was so quick to advocate in Robb's favor. Theon joining the Night's Watch was part of our plan, so we could prove the Others are coming."

"It also diminishes his father's power", Eddard muses. "Without him acting as a spy, his campaign suffers, and we have one less rebelion to worry about. What about… Daenerys?"

"She carries dragon eggs", Jaime answers. "She'll try to hatch them earlier than she did the first time and use her current husband's influence to recruit Essosi troops faster. If everything goes as planned, we'll be able to gather Westerosi and Essosi armies on the Wall in less than two years—before winter arrives, which is our best chance."

He yawns, and Arya follows. Stark declares enough has been said for the time being, and they are to continue their journey north in the morning. "I think I can speak for Sansa when I say we need time to digest everything you told us. I see no reason to believe you are not telling the truth."

Exhaustion takes over quickly, but he stays conscious long enough to feel hope that telling Eddard the truth will make things easier in the long run.

* * *

Sansa manages to _not_ kill Theon on sight—probably because _this_ Sansa has no fighting skills (yet). She still glares at him all the time, though, which confuses Greyjoy until he manages to reveal she knows everything. He's heartbroken, of course, but determined to make things right once again. "The Wall will be no more after we defeat the Others. There will be no Night's Watch, and I'll be free to pursue her. I'd rather be on her good graces by then."

Many Northern house heads and representatives are gathered when Jon and Theon present the wight. He hears Arya tell her father that most of those lords were dead by the time the Long Night began, leaving their seats to children. After everyone is properly scared by the wight, Jon slays him with Longclaw—he remembers Theon managed to get the sword after he fell, just like Arya managed to retrieve Aegon's Blackfyre after he died. "Theon found records that claim those creatures can be killed by fire dragonglass and dragonsteel, which is another word for Valyrian steel. We checked these claims and, as you can see, they are true."

Jaime steps ahead. "There is dragonglass in Dragonstone", he announces. "I've heard there is some of it in Skagos and even Asshai, but I can't be sure." Actually, he _knows_ there is dragonglass in those places too. Sadly, they never managed to get them in time—even Dragonstone was wiped out before they managed to extract all dragonglass from there. "As for dragonsteel… we already have a sword in Stark's possession." _Back then_ , he and Brienne wielded the two swords forged out of Ice, and together they managed to enable many people to live a bit longer before Brienne died. _I should convince Stark to melt Ice this time too, and make two swords. Perhaps we can do the same to all the other Valyrian steel swords. The more, the better._ Arya's hand twitches at his side; he knows she stole Baelish's dagger after killing him, so it's another dragonsteel weapon for them.

Reunions are held, and while Jaime and Arya are present, she doesn't speak up and even he avoids doing so; neither of them are supposed to know as much about the Others as they do. Theon also stays mostly silent; it's Jon who speaks for him.

Eddard sends letters to Robert and a number of southern houses, while Jaime writes only to his own and to his old friend Addam Marbrand. Both men eventually decide to return to King's Landing to give more details about the danger. Jaime promises Arya he'll drag Gendry to work as smith. "He helped a lot the first time around, and even if you are too young now, you should at least meet and befriend."

Arya smiles in a way he rarely saw her doing. "Thank you", she replies quietly. "You should go to Tarth in person and challenge Brienne to a fight."

The corner of his lips lift up slightly. "If only I wasn't Kingsguard, I would." By the time he wedded Brienne in the other reality, not only was he king, the Kingsguard no longer existed—he never renewed it after his crowning, and soon there was no point anymore.

"You can still go see her", Arya replies softly. "She'll be a great asset to the fight, and you can still woo her. If I remember your story correctly, you had to go a long way for her to see you beyond your oathbreaking."

He sighs. "I told her about Aerys' plot in Harrenhal. I don't even know how to tell her here. We built mutual trust while in dire circumstances. Now I'm _already_ in love with her, but she doesn't know anything about me."

"Father already spread your story about Aerys when Theon suggested wildfire could be used against the Others. It's not far-fetched to assume the tale will spread as other armies arrive. And… well, show her she is _worthy_ of affection, Jaime. You know as well as I do she thinks knighthood is the only way for her to be valued as a person because of her looks. Prove her _wrong_ , and when you are released from your vows, you can go straight to her and marry her again."

The picture she's making makes him smile, even though he knows he looks like an idiot. The prospect of being with Brienne without the apocalypse knocking on their doors is almost magical. He'd gladly give Casterly Rock to Tyrion (or even Cersei) and live as Jaime Lannister of Tarth for the rest of his days.

Before they leave, however, Arya disappears. Lady Catelyn—gods, it's so good to see her _actually_ alive—barks orders to have everyone look for her. _As if she'd let herself be found against her will_.

He and Theon team up on their search, assuming that, if Arya is in Winterfell, she'll come to them. It's Greyjoy who finds a clue about her whereabouts… and he guffaws. "Jaime, look at this. Gods, I did _not_ miss this side of her."

He steps ahead and nearly jumps. It's the wight's head, but there is no face in it anymore. Tangled around its hair, there is a note. He grabs and reads it… and guffaws along. He and Theon are still grinning when they find Eddard. "Arya is fine, Stark. She headed to Braavos… I think she's planning to scare them into cooperation." He then lends the note for him to check Arya's handwriting—even if the message itself is a bit cryptic.

_Valar morghulis._

* * *

Back in King's Landing, a Great War Council is created. All great lords that aren't in the city already are summoned: Doran Martell (who sends his brother Oberyn), Tywin Lannister, Mace Tyrell and Hoster Tully (who sends his son Edmure).

His father and Lord Mace are resistant to provide aid, claiming the North has more than enough men to fight, and Jaime has to leave the room to refrain himself from shouting at them. _Easy for you to say, you both died long before the Long Night begins._ Memories of the last war come to him, and he manages to find the godswood just in time to throw up.

 _Am I strong enough for this? I'm tired, I don't want to fight anymore. I just want my wife._ He sits by a tree and, closing his eyes, wills himself to remember all the happy moments he and Brienne shared.

Their first kiss, some time after Lady Stoneheart's defeat. Brienne had been injured, but she was way more distraught at the possibility of breaking his trust. He tried to make her see that he didn't fault her for having to make impossible choices, but she wasn't convinced—until he kissed her.

The first time he told her he loved her. He had realized it when he struck Ronnet Connington for badmouthing her, but didn't say it until they were in Winterfell, preparing for their first battle against the Others. He had to say it a couple more times for her to believe him, but then she replied with another love declaration, and he proposed right then and there.

Their wedding. It was a small gathering in the godswood, and immediately followed by Arya and Gendry getting married too, but they held a simple feast in honor of their joyful moment.

Small moments of happiness and love between fights. Whispered conversations in the dark. Quiet hugs. Making plans for the future, even when it became clear said future was out of reach. Calling her his queen, because even if he was king of nothing, she was queen of his heart.

His traitorous mind jumps to the moment of her death. He saw it, of course—they always fought together, side by side, wielding twin swords. He held her as she drew her last breath—it was supposed to be the other way around, damn it—and grabbed her sword as he ran as far as he could. He knew he wouldn't be able to fight her wight self. That act fell on Sandor's hands—who died months later protecting Bran and Melisandre.

Tears fall, but he holds back sobs. He misses his wife, even if this version of her likely despises him in the rare occasion she _might_ spare him a thought. He misses his children, even if he was never able to be their father. He misses the children he imagined having with Brienne, but never had the chance to come to the world. He misses Tyrion, killed by wight Sansa in one of the first battles. He misses his friends, killed in many ways through the years.

A small part of him suggests he go back to the council, since he is one of the key informants, but he's too exhausted for it. Instead, he falls asleep.

* * *

Somehow, he is tasked to follow Renly to the stormlands to speak personally to its lords. He suspects this is Stark's doing—the man asked him about Brienne more than once.

The visit to Griffin's Roost brings him memories of Jon Connington, who followed Aegon until he died of greyscale, days before the battle; Aegon wisely decided to burn him. It also reminds him of Red Ronnet, and he is not ashamed to say that he brings up a conversation about marriage as soon as they meet just to have an excuse to punch him again for badmouthing Brienne. (Renly thinks his reaction is a bit too much, but agrees that the boy is an ass.)

Tarth is their last destination, and he throws up once on the ship. Is he ready to face Brienne? _I have to be. Arya is right; her fighting skills make her a great asset, regardless of my feelings._ Luckily, Renly tells him about her vow to not marry a man who couldn't beat her in combat, which gives him the perfect excuse.

"If she's so confident about her skills", he says, "she must be good. Have you ever seen her in action?" Renly shakes his head. "Then I'll challenge her. I obviously am not asking for her hand in marriage, but it'll give us a chance to see if she is valuable for the fight."

The youngest Baratheon doesn't argue, but leaves him alone to his thoughts. _You can do this, Jaime. All you gotta do is duel her without getting distracted. Don't pay too much attention to her eyes. Or her freckles. Or the slight curve of her waist. Or her long legs—okay, not helping._

Lord Selwyn is as tall as his daughter and shares her hair color, but otherwise they don't look that much alike. _I wonder how Brienne's mother looked._

Brienne herself looks even younger than when they first met—and softer too, which should not surprise him. The huge scar on her left cheek is not there—she got it _after_ they met, so no surprise either. Her blue eyes show even more innocence, and she doesn't look as disgusted by his presence—though it may be because he comes as Kingsguard and Renly is at his right side, and he _doesn't_ miss the way her eyes light up at the man.

(He has to close his own for a brief moment and remember how she looked at _him_ at their wedding.)

Renly introduces father and daughter to him, and he puts his best grin on his face— _grin_ , not smile, because if he _smiles_ at Brienne he'll give himself away instantly. The lord of Storm's End starts talking about their intentions in coming to Tarth—request aid for the battle against the Others—but it's Jaime who explains the threat.

"I was in Winterfell when members of the Night's Watch showed a wight to the entire Northern nobility. I don't think I've ever seen anything so frightening in my life, and I've had my fair share of scary things to see." _Burn them all_. "Reports from the Wall and beyond tells us of huge armies of the dead. Some say hundreds, some say thousands. Every deceased who isn't burned quick enough is turned into a wight and added to their numbers. The wildlings have been granted passage through the Wall and are being spread across the North to share their knowledge on how to fight them. As far as we know, they can be killed by Valyrian steel, dragonglass and fire."

"My brother Stannis started mining dragonglass in Dragonstone", Renly adds. "Lords Greyjoy and Redwyne are to send ships to Asshai to see if we can buy dragonglass from them as well, while Lords Manderly and Velaryon sent ships to Skagos. We'd like to have ships sent from Tarth, if possible, to Dragonstone, to aid transport of dragonglass to the Wall. Smiths from all over Westeros are being sent there to craft weapons."

"We also request Tarth forces", Jaime says. "As many men as possible—and women too, if rumours are correct." At that, he glances at Brienne, who looks away and flushes—damn it, he is _not_ ready for _that_.

Selwyn clears his throat. "I'm not sure about what rumours you heard, Ser Jaime, but the only known female warrior in the isle is my daughter. No one else."

"What a pity", he replies sincerely. _Fewer people would have died if women were as trained for war as men. Or, at least, it would have taken them more time to be killed._ "But I've heard your daughter has vowed to not wed a man unless he bested her in combat. Is it true, my lady?"

She glances back at him. "Yes. And I take my vow very seriously."

 _Unlike me?_ He thinks, but doesn't say. Instead, he replies, "As you should. However, such a vow implies, at least to me, that you are a skilled fighter. I'd like to see it for myself, if possible."

She blinks. "Ser."

He tries not to soften _too much_. "I'm obviously not fighting for your _hand in marriage_ , my lady. I'm afraid my _vows_ stop me from doing so. I just want to see whether you'd be a good addition to the war against the dead."

He hears Selwyn inhale deeply. _I get it. I wouldn't want my only daughter to fight such a battle either._ His only consolation regarding Myrcella's death was that she never saw the undead.

Brienne apparently cares little for her father's worries. "If that's the case, I accept your request."

He can't help a smile this time. _I'll finally fight her properly, with two hands._ "Whenever you're ready, my lady."

* * *

Their duel happens on the following day. Before, Renly corners him to ask about Brienne—or rather, his reaction to her. Turns out, he's not as subtle as he thinks.

"It's a long story", he simply says. "Too painful to tell."

Renly frowns, certainly even more confused, but doesn't press. "Whatever it is, be careful", he warns. "If either she or Lord Selwyn notices something's wrong, they might not let you go until you explain yourself."

And since he's not looking forward to tell either Tarths that he comes from a future where _Brienne is his wife and the love of his life_ , that he _watched her die_ or that _only he and other five people were alive in the whole fucking world by the time he went back_ , he makes an extra effort to keep a neutral face when he and Brienne meet for the duel.

Of damn course, it turns out to be _nearly impossible_ as soon as she draws her sword, but he at least tries to conceal it enough that his facial expressions can be excused as part of the duel. Luckily for him, nobody notices he's using his _left hand_ for the fight.

The duel drags a bit, enough that Renly and everyone around can see what he _already knows_ —that Brienne is a formidable fighter—and for a moment he considers yielding just so he can see her happy that she defeated _the Kingslayer_. But then he remembers Arya's advice. If he defeats her _now_ , he can use it in his favor when he manages to quit Kingsguard to court her.

That being said, he swiftly switches hands and, with quick movements, finishes the fight. He tries not to look _too_ satisfied when she forcefully mumbles, "I yield", while standing on her left knee.

He offers her a hand. "You really are skilled with the sword, my lady", he says, successfully keeping a neutral voice. "I haven't had a good duel like this for quite some time." _I haven't had a_ duel _for some time, period._

She frowns. "You cheated. You switched your sword hand. I didn't even know you could fight with both."

He shrugged. "Few people do. It's good for the element of surprise." It's not like he can say he only learned how to fight with his left hand after he lost his right one. "And frankly, my lady, I wasn't exactly testing you for a joust. _No one_ fights fair in real battle. Regardless, you'd be a great asset in an eventual battle against the Others, if you are up for the challenge."

Her mouth is agape and her eyes are wide. He _really_ wants to kiss her at this moment. "I'd be honored", she says.

This time, he doesn't hide his smile. "Great. Your father will start sending armies in a fortnight. I'll go to the Wall with them, and we can spar a bit more before and during the trip, if you want to." _Please say you do._

She nods, and he melts inside as she thanks him for the duel and walks away. Later, Renly approaches him and tells him not to 'look too much like you're in love with her' because 'it's damn embarassing, you're Kingsguard for fuck's sake'.

He almost replies that he _is_ in love with Brienne, has been for _years_ , but that wouldn't make any sense at _all_ to the poor Baratheon, so he just rolls his eyes.

* * *

They have been on Tarth for ten days when a bannerless ship arrives. Obviously, he goes along to see who is coming, but regrets his decision instantly.

If pretending not to be hopelessly in love with Brienne is fucking hard, he has to bite his tongue to the point of bleeding to not shout Daenerys' name as she marches to them. _What in seven hells?_

Fortunately, everyone is too shocked to notice his reaction, for the Targaryen is followed by three small dragons—gods, when did she hatch those eggs? It's been what, six moon turns since they came back? Seven?

Selwyn hesitantly steps ahead, unsure of what to do. Daenerys beats him to it. "I assume you are Lord Tarth", she greets politely, pointedly avoiding Jaime's gaze. _She's not supposed to recognize me._

He nods nervously. "That I am, but I'm afraid I don't know who you are…"

She smiles sweetly. "It's alright. I've heard Tarth is rather isolated from the rest of Westeros, so I'm not surprised rumours about me haven't reached your ears yet. My name is Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of Aerys II Targaryen."

Everyone around them straightens their backs. At his side, he hears Brienne say, "Hide while you can, she's the daughter of the king you killed."

He shakes his head, trying his best to hide his delight at seeing her worried about him. "I'll be fine. Don't worry."

Oblivious to their brief exchange, Daenerys keeps talking. "I have not come here to take your lands or the crown—although I have to admit, there _is_ a Targaryen who is eager to reinstate our family dynasty. _But_ I've convinced him to put his goals aside so we can unite with you against the common enemy."

Selwyn blinks several times, and Jaime frowns. Arya must have already reached Braavos, but has word of the Others spread so quickly, to the point Dany can easily talk about it? "I'm sorry… my lady. But what common enemy?"

She nods. "I've heard the entire Westeros is preparing to march against the Others beyond the Wall. Braavos received a rather… unsettling visitor not long ago, and word has spread that the undead are threatening to take over the world." Her smile falls, and she turns as serious as he's used to seeing her in battle. "You can see my dragons, obviously, my lord. Along with them, I've received visions. Visions of a war in a frozen wasteland, against enemies that can only be defeated through fire and blood. My house words, yes, and _finally_ they mean something to me other than senseless destruction."

She then proceeds to explain how she used her dragons to travel around Essos and gather military forces for the fight. She describes her 'visions'—he's not fooled, he knows she's actually recalling _memories_ of the Long Night—and tells Lord Selwyn about the rumours she has heard through the coast.

This all happens on the beach. Lord Tarth is so shocked he has yet to invite her over. From the corner of his eye, he can see Renly and Brienne are just as shocked. He has no idea how _he_ looks at the moment, but honestly, who cares?

Daenerys finishes her speech with, "I've come here to ask for your support for Essosi armies. It's nothing too big, but I understand if you refuse. Shall we go inside to discuss it? I promise you my dragons can stay quiet."

The silence that follows her question is overwhelming. Daenerys said too much in such a short time, he's afraid Lord Selwyn won't believe her. But eventually he nods and guides her to Evenfall Hall. For a fraction of a second, her gaze meets his, but she wisely feigns ignorance on his identity.

* * *

Of course, eventually he is 'formally introduced' to Daenerys. To her credit, her jaw clenches. "Kingslayer", she says, carrying a venom that would scare him if he didn't fight beside her for two years, "I think we have much to discuss. I'm willing to compromise with enemies of my House, but I can't trust you blindly, I'm afraid."

To _his_ credit, he musters all his Lannister arrogance and lifts his chin up. "Neither can I bring myself to trust you on the first meeting, my lady. Not after my efforts to rid Westeros of House Targaryen."

Awkwardly, Lord Selwyn leads them to the solar and asks if they want guards. Both claim it won't be needed. As soon as they are alone, Daenerys hugs him tightly. He chuckles and hugs her back. They break the hug shortly after, but both are smiling.

"I think", he begins, "we could start a mummer's farce after we defeat the Others."

She barely holds a laugh. "We were pretty convincing out here, huh? Granted, no one expects us to treat each other any differently. I think we'll need to spend the whole afternoon here to remotely convince them we reached a compromise."

He nods. "I don't mind, though. I think we have much to catch up, given what you told Lord Tarth on the beach, and honestly my heart could use a break."

At that, she grins. "I take you haven't courted Brienne yet?"

He huffs. "I'm a member of the _Kingsguard_ and, as you so lovely reminded everyone in the room just now, the _Kingslayer_. I consider myself lucky that she has stopped looking at me with disgust after I praised her dueling skills."

"Oh, I want to hear the _whole_ story."

"Dany, believe me when I say this is the _shortest_ story I have to tell you."

For the next few hours, they update each other on the last months. Daenerys tells of how she found herself even more unable to stand her brother's antics, which led to even an earlier death for him. "It was hard to see him die for a second time, of course", she says. "But I also saw an opportunity to hatch the eggs." She then explains how she built a pyre for Viserys and placed her eggs on his body, much like she did the first time.

"Drogo is still alive. I started claiming to have visions right on the pyre, and everyone believed me. Since we were still on Vaes Dothrak, it was easy to spread word about it, and we rode to many cities in Southern Essos. After a while we heard that someone visited Braavos bringing a wight along." At that, she raises her eyebrows.

He chuckles. "Remember I said Theon and Jon took a wight to Winterfell?" She nods. "Well, Arya stole its face and sailed to Braavos. I don't know _who_ she showed herself to, but it clearly made our jobs much easier."

"It did", she replies, almost beaming. "Anyway, I knew where to find Aegon and Connington, and… I figured it would be for the best if they knew the truth, so I told them."

She bits her lip, and he places a hand—his _right_ hand—on her shoulder. "Arya and I told the truth to her father and Sansa. Granted, it was only because Sansa found out about Arya's face thing, but it helped a lot. How did they react?"

"Well, since I told them things I _shouldn't_ know unless I was, in fact, from the future, they were quick to believe me. It also helped when I said Aegon can have whatever throne he wants after we deal with the Others. He was quite happy to find I have no interest in competing against him or wedding him to get power for myself."

 _That_ is news to him. "What? Daenerys, you've always said you wanted to make Westeros a better place, which was why you wanted to be queen. What changed your mind so much?"

She sighs. "I'm _tired_ , Jaime. There are six extra years on my bones, two of them spent fighting restlessly against an enemy who ended up _winning_. When I came back, I realized I have no wish to spend the rest of my life with the burden of a crown on my head. Honestly, _aren't_ you tired too? You've been on this forsaken world for so longer than I. You've gone through three wars, none of them particularly fruitful according to yourself."

He sighs too. "I'm _exhausted_. All I've dreamed of since I woke up here is to spend my days here on Tarth, with no concerns other than raising a family with Brienne. I can imagine you're wondering something similar."

She nods. "I've imagined Jon and I hidden away from the world. I had thought of those islands we were when Bran and Melisandre sent us here. It would be way faster to reach them with dragons."

"Sounds like a small paradise. Maybe I could convince Brienne to join you two after our third child."

She snorts. "If we manage to keep Robb Stark alive, perhaps we can convince Arya and Theon to come with Gendry and Sansa."

He raises his eyebrows. "I think those two will need _more_ work than we do—and that's saying something, given our current situations. Arya is basically a _child_ , and at the moment Theon has to convince Sansa to _not_ murder him before ever dreaming of wooing her."

"Oh gods. Do tell me more."

It's supper time when they emerge from the solar, and Daenerys announces she 'managed to reach an understanding with the Kingslayer'. When Brienne reaches him to ask how he 'talked the Targaryen girl out of burning him', he almost smiles. "She asked me why I killed her father. I think she found my reasons… reasonable enough."

For a moment, she looks like _she_ is going to ask him. She doesn't, though, and he doesn't know what to think of it.

* * *

Lord Selwyn eventually agrees to make Tarth a resting point for Essosi fleets. "The Dothraki will especially need it", Dany explains. "They are not fond at all of the sea, and only agreed to come thanks to my husband. I advise you don't let them close to the townspeople, though."

After a few more days, Renly leaves to go back to King's Landing, tasking Jaime with overseeing the Tarth fleet's arrival on Dragonstone and, later, on the Wall. Daenerys asks to come along, claiming she wants to see the place she was born in—they both know she just wants a way to see Arya and Theon sooner.

On the ship, it's harder to pretend they are not well acquainted with each other, and even harder to pretend they see Brienne as a near stranger—the two girls became friends during the Long Night, and Daenerys mourned his wife more deeply than he had expected.

Brienne confronts him when they make their one-night stop in Dragonstone—Stannis is there supervising the mining, and begrudgingly takes Dany in when he vouches for her. "There is something wrong with you and Daenerys", she says without preamble. Oh, how he missed her straightforwardness. "You seem way too familiar with each other for two people who have never met before. And… I overheard you two sharing what seemed like a jest."

He sighs. Lying to Brienne has become more and more challenging, and he doubts he'll be able to keep this ruse up for much longer. "I'll fetch her, and we'll tell you whatever you want to know. Wait here."

He finds Daenerys wandering around the castle, undoubtedly recalling the few days she spent here _back then_. "Brienne is suspicious", he whispers. "We should tell her the truth."

She merely raises her eyebrows. " _All_ of it?" He shakes his head, knowing she'll know what to hide. He's not ready to tell Brienne they were married in another reality, and that he still sees her as his wife and his true love.

He _will_ tell her, eventually. But only after he's is minimally sure she's falling for him again.

* * *

He has no desire to tell _all_ the story like he told Stark, and neither does Daenerys, so they agree on giving a summary. He speaks for most of the time, anyway.

"So", he begins, "you are right, my lady. Daenerys and I have met before… in the future." She frowns, obviously. "We come from six years ahead. In our time, the Others _won_ , and only six people survived them—Daenerys and I included."

She blinks. "Oh. That's why you two emphasize so much the need to unite against them? Because we failed the first time?"

He nods, suppressing a smile. "Precisely. You're clever, my lady."

"But _why_ wasn't humanity united? Were they unaware of the threat?"

"Some, yes. But… well, the Long Night didn't happen until four years from now. Problem is, in the meantime, Westeros collapsed in civil war. Noble houses were decimated or left to the hands of children, and there was so much distrust among them, not even the crown could gather enough forces to the fight." No need to say _he_ was the crown, as that would raise way too many questions. "As for Essos… most did not believe, or did not care until the army of the dead reached _their_ lands."

"I see. How _did_ they reach Essos?"

"My dragons", Daenerys answers. "They killed all three and turned them to wights. That's when we truly lost. Afterwards, all we could do was run and hide, until there were only six of us standing. Two had magical powers and sent the four of us back in time to prevent the wars and warn the world in time."

"We plan to attack the Others while they are still gathering numbers in the far, far North", Jaime adds. "We want to have the armies sent to the Wall early so you all can get used to the cold and not let it distract you in battle."

"It makes sense", Brienne agrees. "Who are the other two who came with you?"

"Arya Stark and Theon Greyjoy", Daenerys replies.

Brienne frowns; those names mean nothing to her now, he knows. Then, she lowers her voice to ask, "Do you know how I died?"

He gulps. "Yes", he replies, just as low. "I saw it. You were exhausted—we all were, after a year and a half of fighting nonstop—and didn't see a wight coming with a dagger. I tried to rescue you, but it was too late." _You died in my arms._ "Your father died months before. None of us saw it, but… one of the dragons was used to burn the entire island of Tarth."

A tear falls from her eyes, and he has to fight an urge to wipe it away. "I suppose we were friends."

Daenerys spares him from answering. "We were _all_ friends by that point. Even Ser Jaime and I. Few things bring people close as the end of the world."

A short silence. "Ser Jaime", she calls him. "Is that why you know how to fight with both hands? You had to learn to stand a chance against the Others?"

He shakes his head. "No, my lady. I learned how to fight with my left hand because I lost my other one in the civil war. It's a miracle I survived the Long Night." _You helped me train to fight with my left hand. You never let me give up, not when I wanted to die, not when I wanted to stop fighting. I kept on after your death only because I didn't want to disappoint you in whichever of the seven heavens you ended up in. I love you._

"How did you lose it?"

He sighs. "Defending the love of my life."

* * *

They answer a few more questions—fortunately, she doesn't seem so interested in details about the War of the Five Kings—and retire for the day. However, Brienne reaches to him privately before going to her chambers.

"Forgive me if this is too personal", she says, "but you said you lost your hand 'defending the love of your life'. But… you are Kingsguard. How…?"

He smiles and walks with her to a balcony. There, he answers, "My vows forbid me from _marrying_ , not from falling in love. It's… a long and painful story, my lady, and I'd rather not burden you with my sorrow and grief."

"I don't mind", she replies softly, and he falls a bit more in love with her. "You look like you need someone to vent to. May I ask you who she is?"

"I'm sorry, my lady, but I'd rather not tell you her name. You'll recognize it, and trust me when I say it's better if you don't." _I can't tell you now. Not when you don't love me back._

"Oh. Alright."

"I can tell you she's highborn, though. And unwed as of now. Regardless, I was still Kingsguard when I met her and fell in love with her. Also, we were on opposing sides of the war at first. I ended up switching sides when I found out about the threat of the Others, but admittedly it wasn't even because of the threat itself, but because I no longer wanted to be y— _her_ enemy anymore. I went North for _her_ , mostly.

"At that point, I was no longer Kingsguard, for a number of reasons. And… well, things came to a point where there _wasn't_ a Kingsguard anymore. We… we wedded before the battles began." He smiles wistfully, pointedly looking at the moon. "We had happy days. For brief moments, I allowed myself to forget why I was freezing my balls in the far North, what I was about to fight against. All that mattered was that I could call her my wife, something I had never deemed possible." His smile falls. "Of course, the joyful days were soon over, and eventually she died in my arms."

"I'm sorry", she blurts out. "It seems that you really loved her. I hope you two can meet again."

He sighs. "I already found her in this reality. She… she didn't know me at this point, only what people said about me. I don't know how to make her fall in love with me again. But that's not my priority."

"No?"

"No, my lady. My main goal is to make sure she _lives_. Even if it means she'll never love me this time around. Even if it means _I_ won't live to woo her again. If she—and everyone else—is alive and well, then that's what matters most to me."

She smiles softly, and he feels slightly weak on his knees. "I don't know if my word means anything to you, but… I may not know you well, but you seem to be a genuinely good man, Ser, especially considering that Lady Daenerys is willing to look past your crimes and befriend you. All things considered, it seems that this lady is a _very lucky_ one, and I do hope you two can be together again."

_Would you still hope so if you knew it was you?_

"I… appreciate it, my lady. And for the record, your word _does_ matter. Remember what Daenerys said, about us being friends. Neither of us see a _stranger_ when we look at you, and we both hold you in high regard."

She blinks. "It's… good to know. Good night, Ser Jaime."

 _Please, just Jaime._ But he's not brave enough. "Good night, my lady." _Good night, my love._

* * *

It takes nearly a month for them to reach the Wall. Daenerys' dragons are big enough that they can't stay on the ship, but not big enough to be ridden. "They'll reach the right size soon enough", she assures. "Now that I know the best food to give them, they are growing way faster."

Days turn to months as armies keep arriving from Westeros and Essos. His ability to fight with both hands makes him highly requested as a fighting instructor and a sparring partner, which serves to remind him he _can't_ spend all his spare time with Brienne.

Aegon comes and bonds with a dragon, and Daenerys smoothly convinces Jon to try to bond with the third one without revealing she already knows his Targaryen heritage—Lord Stark made sure to _tell_ him this time, and he told his wife too. (He actually told everything to Catelyn, which prompted her to apologize for her other self's actions. It was quite odd.)

Slowly, people realize he, Arya, Daenerys and Theon are _too_ skilled to fight against the undead, and eventually they are forced to admit to everyone the truth. They never tell the full story like they told Eddard and Sansa, but as people ask them individual questions, the details are pierced together.

(Not all of them, though; none of them disclose the full list of monarchs following Robert's death. All they know is that the last one was crowned due to lack of other options and was ready to give it up to the first qualified person who wanted it.)

Some Northerners claim the North _should_ get independence anyway, and many ask _him_ about it—apparently his position as one of the last living people in the world makes him uniquely able to give an opinion on the matter. He always shrugs and says it doesn't matter much.

(As king, he was all too happy to let the North and the Iron Islands rule themselves.)

Word about Aerys and his wildfire plot spread as well, and more people start to say 'Kingslayer' with respect than with scorn. Of course, the only change in opinion that matters to him is Brienne's—and she doesn't disappoint.

"Maybe it shouldn't be surprising", she says. They are alone in a snowy training yard—it's night, and most people are having supper. "If Daenerys forgave you, it should have been because you had a pretty good reason."

He can't help but smile at that. "Not everyone knew", he says. "when I came from. It wasn't useful information, not until very late." _Not until I became king._

She nods, seemingly understanding. "Did I know?"

"You were the very first", he says before he can stop himself.

She frowns. "Why?"

 _Fuck. How am I supposed to explain that?_ "I trusted you", he replies simply.

Of course, it's not enough, and she presses a bit more. "How come you didn't trust anyone else? Your family, your allies, your friends?"

His palms begin to sweat, despite the freezing cold. "We were in the middle of a war", he says, lowering his voice. "I was captured by enemy forces. You were my enemy's sworn sword, and you liege lady tasked you with delivering me back to my camp in exchange for her daughters. We both swore to see them home, to safety."

"I'm sorry, did you just say we started as _enemies_?"

"Well, I'm a Lannister. Is it _that_ surprising that my House pissed off half of the realm?" She doesn't reply, which he takes as an agreement. "Anyway, we started our journey as captor and captive, but, long story short, we were both captured by another enemy, one we sort of had in common. That's where trust was built between us. Where we became friends. Where I told you about Aerys."

She tilts her head. "But why _me_? Did _I_ ask?" He shakes his head. "Then why did you tell me without any prompting? I… I stopped judging you here because you showed, repeatedly, to be a good man. If we were on opposing sides, I highly doubt I was able to see this side of you. So _why_?"

He huffed. "You did see it", he replies without thinking. "Or _should_ have seen it. I got my hand cut off to save you from rape. I was weak and sick when I told you about Aerys, partly because I didn't want to die without anyone knowing the truth."

He only realizes what he said when her eyes widen. _Fuck. Can't keep your mouth shut, huh?_ A million emotions pass through her eyes in a matter of seconds, and soon his hands are trembling.

"Ser", she says quietly. "You said once you lost your hand defending the love of your life."

He gulps. "I didn't realize it at the moment… but yes, it's you."

She goes still. His entire body is trembling now, and he bites his tongue to avoid saying anything else that could further fuck things up. _You'll be rejected here and now. Don't make this worse._ Eventually, she takes the few steps that separate them. It's hard to breathe.

"Tell me the whole story", she demands, and it's not like he's able to deny her.

* * *

Brienne doesn't kiss him at the end of the tale, but she doesn't slap him either, so he takes it as a win when she simply asks for some time alone. It goes for days. He distracts himself with battle plans and training—and answering people about how they died in the previous timeline.

Renly Baratheon? "Some weird sorcery. I never understood what happened."

Stannis Baratheon? "Executed for war crimes."

Shireen Baratheon? "I think it was the same sorcery that got Renly killed." (Later, Stannis demands to know why people are blaming him for his brother's and his daughter's deaths. He dryly tells him "because it really was your doing".)

Tywin Lannister? "Executed for war crimes." (Not the real reason why Tyrion killed him, but Jaime honestly thinks he had it coming.)

Cersei Lannister? "Executed for treason and war crimes." (It was the official explanation back then, and he's _not_ going to disclose the truth.)

Tyrion Lannister? "Perished in the Long Night." (It's the answer he gives the most, seconded by "perished in the civil war".)

Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen? "Betrayed." (Many people begin to ask _who_ judged those people for treason if there were traitors everywhere. He shrugs them off.)

Eddard Stark? "Executed for treason, but it was a lie."

Doran Martell? "No idea. Disease?"

Oberyn Martell? "Championed someone in a trial by combat and lost."

Mace Tyrell? "Perished in an explosion." (It applies to nearly all Tyrells.)

Balon Greyjoy? "Fell off a bridge." (Many snorts follow that answer.)

The list goes on. One day, his father approaches him after a training session. "I take you were the last king of Westeros", he says.

He tilts his head. "Why do you think that?"

"Everyone who could come before you died for reasons other than 'perished in the Long Night'. Apparently, out of all candidates, only you and Tyrion lived to see it. And I heard the last king was not fond of his new job. It fits your character."

Jaime sighs. "After Robert, it was Joffrey, then Tommen, then Cersei, then me. Renly and Stannis never got to sit on the throne, and Myrcella and Shireen died before Tommen." He takes a deep breath. "Don't ask me more. I won't say. And don't try to plot to get me on that damned chair again. I'll throw myself off a tower before the coronation."

"I don't doubt it", he replies evenly. "When Cersei came to Casterly Rock, she insisted you changed overnight. Now I know it wasn't overnight for _you_. Whoever you are now, it's not someone any of us can reach."

"Some people _can_ reach me", he replies instantly, then shakes his head. "But no, not any of you."

Silence. And then, "What happened to the rest of the family?"

He sighs. "Uncle Kevan died in the war. I don't know how, exactly. I was far away. But the rest… Most of the men marched north with me. Aunt Genna took the women and the children to Casterly Rock after I sent word that Tyrion had died and Winterfell had fallen. She figured the dead wouldn't be able to climb the Rock. She was right… but she didn't count the dragons."

His father inhales sharply. "Did you see it?"

"No. I was on King's Landing at the time, I think. We thought of trapping as many wights as possible inside the city and let one of the dragons burn the whole place by igniting the wildfire. It worked, but it wasn't enough. We didn't manage to lure many wights without risking our own lives."

That was how his friend Addam died. " _If I'm to die, at least I'll turn to ashes and be useless to the Night King."_ Bronn said the same thing, though with a lot of curse words in between, and also met his end in the city.

He sighs. "We had seen a dragon going west, so we headed south. After King's Landing, there was little to do but run and hide. The last Lannister to die was Devan, I think. Near Highgarden. Then it was just me." Brienne was gone too at that point (she died right after they passed Summerhall), and right now he has no wish to tell his father about her.

Finally, his father leaves him alone.

* * *

Finally, _she_ approaches him. Her sapphire eyes are shining in a way that reminds him of when he first told her he loved her—like she can't believe he's real. He knows she felt that way; she _told_ him, and she wouldn't lie about that. She only lied to him once, and even then she couldn't keep the lie up for long.

(" _They were going to hang Pod. I had to think of something." "Let me help you then. Let's think together."_ )

"I'm sorry I avoided you for days", she begins.

He shakes his head and smiles his most sincere smile—the one reserved just for her. "You're here. It's all that matters."

She gulps. "I've never… No one has ever looked at me the way you do. Forgive me, but it's hard to accept."

He opens his arms. "Come here. I've always been better with actions than with words anyway."

Hesitantly, she closes the distance between them and allows him to embrace her. She smells exactly like she did _back then_ , and her height means he doesn't have to bow for their cheeks to touch, and _gods_ he missed her so much. He closes his eyes and hugs her tight.

She stays still at first, but slowly moves her arms to hug him back. He might cry. He may cry. He's crying.

"I missed you", he whispers.

"I'm here", she whispers back. "And… I don't think I want to leave."

"Then stay. I'll keep you safe."

"I don't really need you to, do I?"

"No", he tightens his hold on her. "But I lost you once. I don't plan on letting it happen again."

* * *

Arya and Theon sneak to find Bloodraven. Bran said _he_ wasn't going to exist in this new timeline, but said nothing on the previous Three-Eyed Raven. "We need information on the Other's current status", Daenerys says in a meeting between the four of them. They hold these meetings regularly, usually before an official war council meeting. "Bloodraven is our best option for that."

They come back a fortnight later. "Fewer than we expected", Arya summarizes, "but enough to defeat us again if we are not careful."

Daenerys tells Jon and Aegon about all the weaknesses the dragons have that might be exploited by the Night King. She has had more than enough time to dwell on their deaths and imagine how they could have been prevented.

"They are currently gathered in Hardhome, the ruined wildling town", Theon tells the others at the big meeting. "Ideally, it would have been a good place to look for dragonglass, but I think we have enough of it now." Stannis managed to mine nearly all of it in Dragonstone, and the Skagosi had their fair share too. "Last time, they used the Haunted Forest to hide from us. Now we have the forest as _our_ advantage for a surprise attack."

Arya steps in. "Most of the army of the dead is of wights. They are not organized, and they overpower their victims by brute force and by exhausting the opponent. In the previous timeline, we acted on defensive, and that brought us our doom. Now we are the attackers. We have the upper hand, and we have to use it.

"We won't send all fighters at once. We'll go in groups, sent every two days. We'll establish small camps along the way, which will serve for resting, eating, healing. Too many of us died out of exhaustion last time; we can't let that happen again."

It's Jaime's turn to speak. He approaches the map lying on the table, which shows all known lands beyond the Wall. "Some of you will be sent to the two islands", he says, pointing at Skagos and Skane. "You will sail to Hardhome when one of the dragonriders comes for you; we'll explain more of that when you go there. The ships will carry some caches of wildfire. Other caches will be brought to the Haunted Forest.

"If possible, we'll surround Hardhome with wildfire and attract the wights _out_ of it. Once they unknowingly approach the caches, we'll ignite them. From afar, of course, to avoid casualties on our side, though I'm afraid there will be _some_ deaths. If, for whatever reason, we can't plant the caches safely around the town, we'll use the dragons to drop them from the sky. It's not the safest strategy, but it's still safer than letting them come to us.

"The goal is to get rid of as many wights as possible in order to reach the Night King. If we kill _him_ , our problem is solved. However, he cannot be killed by anything other than Valyrian steel. Fire delays him and dragonglass injures him, but only Valyrian steel can finish the job. Which is why we need to choose carefully who will wield weapons made of it, and place those wielders strategically.

"I know most Valyrian steel swords are ancestral swords held by noble families for centuries, and their current wielders are rightfully attached to them. However, we can't waste time discussing who deserves to wield it or not. We'll choose our best warriors and lend those swords to them. If we win this war, they will be delivered back to their owners. If we lose… well, I guess it goes unsaid."

Instructions and strategies are talked over and over for the next hours. They plan to attack in a sennight, and time cannot be wasted.

The four of them—Jaime, Arya, Theon and Daenerys—get Valyrian steel weapons. Lord Stark indeed melted Ice and made two swords out of it; he lends one of them to Jaime (he wanted to give it to Arya, but she already has a dagger, which is her weapon of choice anyway). Theon gets House Harlaw's sword—its current wielder insisted he'd only lend it to an Ironborn, and Theon's mother is a Harlaw by birth—while Daenerys gets House Rogare's ancestral sword—he didn't even know that family still existed, but he won't complain. As dragonriders, Jon and Aegon get Valyrian steel swords too—like last time, Jon gets Longclaw and Aegon gets Blackfyre.

Arya snitched Darksister from Bloodraven's cave. "Give it to Brienne", she tells him. He does, obviously.

She refuses it at first. "It should be given to a better warrior", she explains.

"You did a lot of damage last time", he argues. "This is not _my_ decision alone, Brienne. I'm not giving this to you out of sentimentalism. All four of us remember quite well how you held yourself against the dead." It takes some more convincing, but she agrees.

Someone found Brightroar, the long lost ancestral weapon of House Lannister—the one his uncle Gerion died looking for. Tywin gets it, but ends up lending it to the Blackfish, much to Jaime's amusement.

Finally, the day arrives. Prayers are made, goodbyes are said. Brienne kisses him for the first time in this reality.

* * *

_This_ Long Night lasts less than a moon turn.

Aegon is the one to land the final blow on the Night King, with Jon and Daenerys' help, at the cost of his dragon—and his life. The other two dragonriders are heavily injured, but survive.

Many die, and another many are gravely injured; Jaime is among the second group. He spends the second half of the war recovering in the Wall; his sword being borrowed by Robb Stark. He gets a few visits from people who went back to rest—more than he expected, but apparently his reputation as one of the survivors of the first Long Night surpasses all other bad ones from before. Sadly, most of the time he's barely conscious, so he has to rely on the maesters' reports on who came to see him more often than not.

(He has flash memories of blond hair and blue eyes, and a kiss on his forehead.)

He has just been cleared to fight again when the war is officially over. Oh, well. He's not going to complain.

It takes a while to account for all dead. Daenerys' husband Drogo is among the casualties; he knows she'll mourn, but honestly, it's a win—she can be with Jon again now. Sansa, Gendry and Brienne all survive, though with varied degrees of injuries, so it's a _big win_ for the four of them.

Among the dead, he recognizes many names and faces: Eddard and Benjen Stark, Mance Rayder, Robert and Renly Baratheon, Euron and Victarion Greyjoy ( _good riddance_ ), Oberyn and Quentyn Martell, Tormund Gianstbane, Roose Bolton ( _thank the gods_ ), many Freys, Edmure Tully, Jeor and Maege Mormont, Mace and Loras Tyrell, Beric Dondarrion (who doesn't get revived this time), Sandor Clegane ( _it should've been his brother_ ), Yohn Royce…

Some Lannisters die too: his father, his uncle Kevan, two of his cousins… and Joffrey. The news leaves him a bit empty inside, but he lost them all before, so it doesn't shake him as badly as he thought it would.

All in all, it's a victory. The sun never sets for good, and the Others are defeated once and for all.

* * *

_Five years later_

"Jaime fucking Lannister, you are _not_ going to take a single wine bottle from this house! You lost wine rights when you gave up lordship rights!"

He guffaws at his brother. "Oh, come on, Tyrion, just one bottle…"

"No", Brienne—his _wife_ —interrupts him. "Don't listen to him, Tyrion. There is enough drink in that bag for him to forget he is to come back in a moon's turn and miss the birth."

"Only _death_ will stop me from being here when you give birth, Brienne. You are barely five moons pregnant."

"You are _not_ going to get a _single more_ wine bottle, and that's final."

He shuts up, but smiles and kisses her on the mouth as they hug. Tyrion makes a sound of disgust and leaves the room.

"Shall we get a proper goodbye, my lady?", he asks with the most suggestive voice in her ear.

She chuckles. "Daenerys will come pick you up at any moment, Jaime. Are you sure you want to greet her in your nameday wear?"

"She can wait."

"But can her _dragon_ wait?"

He sighs and contents himself with more kisses, rubbing her belly as he does so.

It's their second baby; the first, a girl named Joanna, was born around two years ago, not so long after their wedding. Jaime proposed to her as soon as they were both recovered from the battles, but her father insisted on a proper betrothal, with courting time and all, and his aunt Genna demanded _more_ time to prepare for a big wedding—never mind he was no longer heir to Casterly Rock and decided to take the Tarth name when he wedded. It took nearly a whole year for him to finally call Brienne his wife again, but it was worth it.

They currently live in King's Landing, but they have spent the previous fortnight in Casterly Rock and would likely stay there until she gave birth.

Today is a special day for him, Daenerys, Arya and Theon. _Back then_ , it was roughly this time when they sailed west to escape the Night King and go back in time—it's hard to say precisely _when_ it happened due to the lack of sun, but they managed to keep track of the days well enough to have an idea. In celebration of their success, the four of them would spend a fortnight in the islands where they said goodbye to the reality they once knew in order to reshape it.

It's far from the first time the four of them visit the islands. Daenerys ended up getting the crown after a Great Council held after Robert's death. There wasn't much to discuss; it was either her, Jon or Stannis. The remaining Baratheon brother wished Storm's End more than the crown, and Dany and Jon were already courting—not to mention they were praised as heroes way more than Stannis. Everyone prefered the Targaryens over him.

Her first act was to honorably release Jaime from the Kingsguard, immediately followed by naming him as her Hand. " _Seven hells, Dany_ ", he said. " _Leave me alone for once!_ "

" _If I'm going to endure this, I won't do it alone_ ", she argued. Afterwards, she named Arya as Lady Commander of her Queensguard—an order that now allows marriage and kids, as well as retirement—and Theon as Master of Ships.

Dany still wanted to visit the islands, so they agreed to go there every year; it was much easier to do so with dragons. Usually, at least one of their spouses—Arya and Theon ended up marrying Gendry and Sansa, though they took a lot longer to get them than he and Daenerys did—follow them, but this is _their_ year. No matter how much Brienne, Jon, Sansa or Gendry knows about what they went through, they'd never fully understand. _This_ moment, _this_ year, is for them alone.

Speaking of which, the Dragon Queen arrives an hour after he tries to take his wife to bed. He whispers to her that they _could_ have gone to the bedroom and be back before her arrival, but she just rolls her eyes.

The Lannisters all gather before the dragon. Daenerys usually picks him up in Tarth or King's Landing, but yesterday was Myrcella's nameday, and he didn't want to miss it. She and Tommen eventually found out the truth about their parentage, which they took rather well, all things considered. He and Cersei never truly reconciled—she still hides somewhere in the Rock when he comes to visit, having never remarried—but they are now able to tolerate each other for the sake of the kids. His sister even sends them to him sometimes.

He grabs the bag of wine bottles and climbs the dragon after kissing Brienne one last time. "Hold tight!", Dany exclaims.

The flight from the Rock to the islands is rather short and uneventful. Arya and Theon are already there, enjoying the sun. He heads straight to the hut—the same they gathered with Bran and Melisandre _back then_ —to unpack his bag.

Later that night, they sit on the sand near the water, same as they did a lifetime ago, but this time holding glasses full of wine. There is moonlight now, and the sound of waves is their background music; no songs need to be sung.

"To happiness", they say, toasting.

**Author's Note:**

> The three islands mentioned at the beginning and at the end are canon, and so is their explorer. The full story can be found in 'Fire and Blood', but Alys Westhill is an alias for Elissa Farman, and she named the three islands Aegon, Rhaenys and Visenya.  
> I thought of writing scenes from the POV of Dany, Arya and Theon, as well as a one-shot regarding Jaime and Brienne's story (they are my OTP and the main reason I wrote this in Jaime's POV), buuut I'll only do it if there is demand for it. Otherwise I'll just focus on my multichapter stories xD


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